


Socorro and Mariella

by MarimenCarmen2



Category: El Tigre: The Adventures of Manny Rivera
Genre: F/F, Ghosts, Mexican Horror, Skeletons, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-07 03:39:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14662542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarimenCarmen2/pseuds/MarimenCarmen2
Summary: Follow the new adventures of Socorro, a goth girl who meets the ghost of a abused girl named Mariella.





	1. Chapter 1

Her mother, Luisa only wanted to see her expand her wardrobe's hue from black, purples, and reds to brighter cheery pastels and pinks. 

Like the compact and the scrunchie, the dress had been a part of a present from her mother. The outfit form fit her and a shade of dark purple with long sleeves; tied around her waist sat a purple & pink sash. The dress stopped mid-thigh; a bit too short for her modest tastes. Socorro put on a pair of black caprie leggings. Slipping on her ballet shoes she stumbled over to her vanity, all the while tying her hair up in the purple-pink scrunchie, and began to apply the purple and pink eye shadow.

Socorro picked up the red lipstick and applied it to her bottom lip. A tad more confident, she picked up the black tube and smoothed it over the top lip. Overall Socorro liked the way she looked. The outfit didn't clash, even with the pink, and gave her a needed confidence boost.

She could do this.

Rummaging around her closet, Socorro pulled out an old round table and assembled it in the middle of her room. Running downstairs she found an old oil lamp and returned to her room. Tapping her feet she realized something was missing.

"A table cloth!"

Diving into her closet for the third time she pulled out a tub labeled: Halloween. Opening it she pushed the costumes, decorations, and nick-knacks out of her way till she got to the bottom. Carefully, she pulled out the hand-sewn green silk table cloth. I had a delightful spider web pattern on it and a hole in the center.

"Perfect." Socorro smoothed the table cloth on the table, placed the lantern over the hole, and lit the wick for spooky ambiance. "Now, how do I summon a ghost?" Her mind drew a blank. Unsure of how to proceed she took out her penned contract and gave it a once over, figuring it was now some-sort of magical artifact, and skimmed her hand writing.

Frustrated she tossed the curled paper onto the table. At first nothing was out of the ordinary, but then she noticed something strange happening to the contract: blood appeared. Un-curling the paper she held it up to the light. Blood underlined her written words then faded out of existence. Skimming the poem her *ha* spirits lifted.

"I just hope this works…"Socorro took a deep breath & returned the contract back to its hiding place. She closed her eyes and imagined the other world. Slowly, Socorro lifted her arms up, in the distance a crack of thunder could be heard.

Opening her eyes Socorro was greeted with a questioning sight.

Her old bedroom had transformed into a stone tower complete with rotting beams, live bats, and spindly furniture. Spying the table in the center Socorro noticed that the green table cloth had turned a vibrant shade of red.

Practically skipping over to the oddly shaped house Socorro only stopped at the mail box.

"What an odd mail box!" Socorro went to stick her hand inside it.

"Ay! I would not do that if I were you!"

"AHhhhh!" Startled again, Socorro pulled her hand back just as the mail box became animated.

Socorro backed away from the, what she guessed, Mexican skeleton. He was tall, nearing seven feet, had bones, and brown eyes. A sun hat sat atop his skull, and she watched as he smiled and his thin black mustache curled upwards on its own. He wore red & white sneakers, a pair of red jogging shorts, and a small blue shirt that didn't cover all of his ribs.

She only got stopped once for and by something ridiculous: a strange girl with 1950s clothing wanted to compliment her outfit.

"Why 'ello there, doll." She said in a heavy Brooklyn accent. "Beautiful poncho!"


	2. Socorro's Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Socorro invites everyone to her party.

“Oh Socorro…!”

"Yes, Nikita and Anita?" she replied with a determined gaze inside her locker and a grumble under her breath. So much for her cheery mood.

"I haven't heard anything about your party." The Suarez twin propped herself against the nearby locker, "Then again, if you'd like to forfeit now, I might be inspired to spare your reputation and settle things quietly."

"Your compassion is deeply moving," Socorro set her books carefully inside, forcing herself not to handle them with unnecessary force (there’s no need to punish them, after all), "but as a matter of fact, I am throwing my party tomorrow night, and you're welcome to attend."

The other twin crinkled her nose, but then produced a beaming smile. Socorro could practically see the arrogance dripping from both corners, "I think I just might come, Socorro—I could use a good laugh!"

Luisa was ecstatic at the thought of throwing a Halloween party. It worked, with her father's protests left unheeded by a delighted Luisa, and Socorro was left in peace to send out invitations, prepare decorations, and clean the house.

Finally, at one o'clock the following morning, she collapsed on her bed, exhausted and absent one very important item: her costume.

Unsurprisingly, Luisa had made multiple offers to construct her "the perfect outfit". For the simple sake of her dignity,Socorro refused. But now, bone-tired and out of ideas, Socorro hadn't the faintest idea as to how she might conjure up an outfit in time. The costume stores were a joke; unless she wanted to look like the eroticized version of a fairytale character or cover herself in an obnoxious assortment of tulle and glitter (and she didn’t). At this point, her only option was a bed sheet and a serious bout of humiliation.

She muttered something rather vulgar under her breath and rolled over. Her closet was a short distance away, doors parted to reveal its contents. No inspiration came immediately to mind: it was just a collection of school uniforms and black. Black, black, and…

…red.

Her sheets were flung unceremoniously aside as she launched herself out of bed and jerked the doors wide. Fumbling briefly in dim light emitting from her bedside lamp, her fingers found lace and tulle. Without a second thought, she pulled the foreign garment free and into view.

"Socorro!" Luisa's voice was like a poorly-tuned church bell, "Your friends are arriving! Enjoy yourself!"

Friends indeed…Socorro scoffed as she made final adjustments to her costume. A thigh-high slit in the satin skirt was a last-minute alteration to grant more flexibility. Black tights preserved her modesty, and she was granted some modicum of height with heeled boots (her favorite pair, fashioned straight out of the Victorian era). An hour’s worth of attacking her hair with the straightener finally tamed it into something presentable. She rather liked the way her face was framed in feathery strands: a vintage clash of white skin and black hair, with an abrupt introduction of red lace at her throat.

She felt elegant, refined, and oh so strange and unusual.

Lightning split the sky. Thunder shook the very foundations of the house. The lights flickered violently before abruptly falling dark, and she heard startled yelps and shouted confusion just around the corner. Again, lightning and thunder, this time with a burst of chilled wind that showed its favor to her while passing through the already-unnerved crowd. In the darkness, it felt as though the whole house abruptly shifted; the atmosphere was wrought with panic and uncertainty. A more perfect setup had yet to be conceived.

Everyone was abundantly aware of tension in the air: fear was running amok, and those with dates were tucked protectively against their sweethearts. The only calm soul in the room was the one who entered on light feet, a vision in red drawing immediate attention with the candle she held in hand. Suspended from the ceiling, little tea candles flickered to offer poor illumination in the darkness. Socorro smiled, imagining the expression tweaked dangerously in the surrounding shadows.

"Sorry about the lights, everyone." Socorro called, and all eyes hastily swiveled towards her shape, "I guess we have some unexpected guests after all."

"Unexpected guests?" A black haired girl with a red scarf near the left wall, spoke nervously; her voice quivered terribly, and Socorro imagined her small hands were the same way, "W-who…?"

Socorro only blinked, her smile never faltering, "Why, the ghosts, of course. You all didn't think I hosted a Halloween party for the food, did you?”

Silence followed her inquiry; she barely swallowed back a satisfied smirk. “This house…" she set her hand solemnly upon the nearest wall, "This house has a presence."

A girl with a Mohawk nearly squeaked around her words, "Is it…is it a friendly one, Socorro?"

A shrug, "Sometimes," she murmured thoughtfully, "and sometimes not. It depends."

The response was unanimous, "Depends on what?"

Every eye was fixated upon her, watching every idle step taken around the room; the candle flickering calmly in her hand, "On whether or not you dismiss its existence or not. Those who believe, are favored…protected, even. Those who don't…" her eyelids lowered slightly in accordance with her tone, "aren't welcome here."

A girl with blue hair, Frida, stepped a little closer to Socorro, as if proximity might grant protection, "Does the ghost like you, Socorro?"

I'll say…she smiled to herself before blinking it away. "I respect her, Frida. I respect that this is her home as much as it is mine. We established a…understanding some time ago." The smile returned as she considered the truth of her words.

"Do you go on dates with her too, Socorro?" Nikita and Anita's voices cut over nervous murmurs as they strutted forward with hand on hip, 

Anita said "I don't know who you think you're fooling, Morales, but your tacky little ghost story isn't going to scare us!"

"Are you sure about that, Nikita?" Socorro returned, unmoved by doubters. "You don't want to make her angry. No one likes her when she's angry."

The brunette sniffed loudly, tossing her hair over one shoulder, "And what happens when you dismiss her?"

"I don't." She answered, her dark eyes narrowing slightly, "And I suggest you watch your tongue, Nikita. I don't tolerate doubters any more than he does."

"And why should I be scared of you, Socorro Morales?"

There it was: a widespread shiver running unchecked as her words lingered in the air; even Nikita's bravado seemed to have momentarily been shaken, and Socorro just savored the sensations. She didn't doubt the truth of her words, not for a moment. She just chose not to acknowledge, more than likely, she would be willing to do the same for her.

Her cue was noted by the unseen, and so it began.

From the darkened rafters came a haunting sound: soft, childish, bone-chilling chuckles growing louder with each passing minute. Then, chuckling transformed into cackles.Nikita and Anita took a nervous step backwards, casting their brown eyes around before summoning her last bit of defiance.

"Alright, Morales," she scoffed, "where's the radio, or whatever you're using to make this whole thing up?"

Socorro smiled sweetly, "I'm pretty good with making scary decorations and good sound effects, Nikita," she admitted, "but I'm afraid there are some things I can't make up."

"Like what?"

Her eyes lifted to the ceiling directly above her as she lifted a single finger in the same direction, "Like that, for instance."

For a long, long minute, no one dared move. And then… a distinct rattling emitted from the shadows, not unlike that of a snake. Then, the soft hiss of a serpentine body slithering about, creeping out of sight, but certainly within reach of any who dared venture too far outside the protective circle. Closer, closer…its presence seemed to favor Socorro as she stood perfectly calm in the room’s center. Hiss, hiss, hiss. A shape shifted and coiled around the one who had summoned its presence. Rattle. Hiss. A vision of dark scales began to loom from the shadows: a long and thick body illuminated only by candlelight. And Socorro only blinked as she was tucked close to the unexpected visitor, its tail coiled around her feet as it drew nearer.

And then, a face of exaggerated proportions, pale skin and creepy blue eyes which is covered by her long black. Thin lips pulled upward to reveal a mouth of long and sharp teeth set in a leering grin. Time took a momentary suspension as the face rested itself near Socorro's shoulder and a massive body of scales came into full view. And then…it spoke.

“Boo."

Smiling, she lifted her gaze towards the ceiling, where a vision in black was loitering in mid-air, wearing a thoroughly-satisfied smirk. "Alright, I’ll admit it." She said, loosely folding her arms with a coy smile, "you made this one heck of a party, Mariella."

"Told you so." She grinned, stretching out both arms like a content cat and cracking her knuckles, "But don't hang up your dancing shoes yet, Coco. This party's just gettin' started!"

An idle snap of her fingers, and music began to fill the entire house of its own accord. Chairs rocked to the beat, the decorative tins Luisa set in the hall began clanging and bouncing against each other, and candles ascended in a scattering of small flames levitating in open air. Another snap, and the overheard light fixtures were spinning wildly in place.


End file.
